We conceived of a the trip after the organisational problems proceeding HIM II and a rather super 'old world' dinner at the Pen-Y-Gwryd. I wanted a simple trip with people who wouldn’t complain about the cost or have trouble with the physical demands. It worked perfectly.
The Pen-Y-Gwryd Hotel was a meeting point for the ’53 Everest team and retains much of its old world charm to this day. There is no piped music or mobile phone signal; there are no flashing lights and no TVs and there are lots of bits of subtle climbing and walking reference built into the fabric of the building.
When Julia, Chris and I eventually arrived (following an embarrassing lapse which saw me heading to South Wales instead of North wales) we walked from a wet envelope of fog into a warm wood panelled bar with waiting pints of Welsh beer. I felt immediately at home amongst some dear friends and a wonderfully conducive 'brown' environment. Soon I was nestled between the monogrammed sheets for eight hours of 'the dreamless' before being gently awakened by the sound of the breakfast gong. They really do have a gong.
Like the rest of the hotel, breakfast was exactly proportionate to requirements. Good quality food was supplied in just the right amount for a day in the hills. I didn't come away from the table feeling like a ball of grease and I wasn't faced with too much choice.
By 10am we were assembled in the bar ready to meet the challenge of the mountain and the wintery embrace the outdoors. We strode up the road with the droplets of water condensing out of the fog onto our clothes. Turning into the car park at Pen-Y-Pass we headed up the gradual shoulder which heads past the Pyg track to the buttress and the ridge.
This is an excellent warm up, punctuated as it is with small sections where three points of contact are required. We moved well with the girls and boys all mixed up and working together. Nobody was consistently at the front of back and all showed pluck. At the division of the paths (where I had anticipated a decision) we collectively decided to head up the ridge. There was little snow and no ice and the risks were negligible. The cloud swirled in any out and visibility waxed and waned. At some points the route looked quite committing and serious and at others it was a walk in the park.
Everyone was sensible and focused on the exposed sections and I spent my time stamping in appropriate footholds where poor technique by climbers ahead of us made footing treacherous. We stopped on the ridge for an impromptu lunch before pressing on over rising ground to the subsidiary summit cairn and the obelisk which marks the exit to the Pyg and Miners’ track. The temperature was falling as we walked through the snow to the Snowdon summit cairn. Oddly it was populated by pasty weirdoes with greyhounds and beer. It is funny but that rather spoiled things for me and I pootled off to stare into the cloud and think about the route down.We decided to return via the pyg track (a well trodden route to Pen-Y-Pass) but I hadn’t quite bargained on what was in store. The route was heavily covered in snow and the first section was a little treacherous. However, once we found our feet (and our bottoms) we discovered that we could run and glissade down huge sections of it without effort.
Everyone was almost dizzy with exhilaration as we tumbled and slid our way down. It was some of the best fun I’ve had in ages – like being a child again. We arrived back in the car park tired but thoroughly fulfilled. The climb was a real success.
